Poetry / Fairy In a Glade
Fairy In a Glade
The small glade where I once lay reading from a book that told of tales of woe. It was a place of beauty and wonder that always held me in it’s sway. So there I sat one spring day reading my tales of woe when another sight of beauty did stray my way. I remember how she flitted up to me her every movement like some enthralling dance locking my gaze upon her. Slowly she lay next to me looking deep within my eyes and asking me of the tales which I read. So I began to read to her my tales of woe and to my wonder the woe so long trapped inside me began to drift away. From that day forth she would come to me like a Fairy in my secret glade to listen to my tales of woe and soon she began to spin her own. There we would pass our days until the sun sank deep beneath the sky and our glade would darken. So my Fairy so soft and sweet would take her leave of me and flit away into the woods from whence she came as the sun did sink away. She would turn to me and say till the morrow keep me in thy thoughts and remember my embrace. Left alone I would linger there in my little glade to ponder her words and her beauty and long for her embrace. Yet, with her gone my thoughts would drift back to my tales of woe and all the woe she’d been though. I would begin to wonder as to what might save her from the tales of woe she carried so heavy upon her shoulders. How I might lift my dancing Fairy above all her sorrows and let her dance among the stars within the Heavens. For every time she lay next to me my woes would drift away and I would feel as if I danced among the clouds. Could I not do the same for her and help to brighten the dark spots upon my Fairy’s soul?
Soon however the time would come for me to leave my secret glade and go back to the real world that held all my pain. There I would stay thinking always of my little glade and my sweet Fairy that would dance for me and take away my pain. When at last my time of learning was done within my world of pain I would once again slip off to my glade to see my Fairy dance and lay next to her as we spun our little tales. My Fairy would laugh and whisper sweet nothings in my ear to dry away my tears and I would hold her in my arms and comfort her broken soul. We would both then just sit quietly and stare in each others eyes and find the unsaid words that would comfort both our souls. Every day we would find each other in the glade and every night we would part knowing we would not part for long. Then one day I came to my glade to see my Fairy dance and did not find her waiting there. So I lay and waited for her arrival yet hours past and still she did not come to me as I lay within my glade. Soon I watched as the setting sun sank beneath the sky and the darkness came yet still my Fairy had not arrived so saddened by my missing her I slipped away and day by day awaited her. Yet, to my dismay my Fairy came never back to my glade to grace me with her dance or take my woes away with her splendid gaze. So here I sit in my little glade with my tales of woe adding to the book I read a little tale of my own.
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Well, there are no line breaks or new paragraphs, so it sort of runs on a bit in a way that is a little bit tiring. And I think the words “Fairy” and “Pain” are in it enough to become redundant. But I do like the flow of language here, and the dreaminess it holds. But I find the ending too abrupt. Ending are difficult tasks, and I sense that perhaps you tried to take the easy way out by simply ending it where you are. I think this is something with potential but you might come back to it at a later date when you are no longer “here” sitting. If you just say the Fairy has left and never came back, it is not enough, there should be a greater point to make than that.
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Great work, great concept. I think you need a better word choice, there are many words that can be used in place of woe and dance… I think you’ve overused both words. You could also use more line breaks. I really like the story though. Makes the reader wonder is the fairy was any more than a muse. If she is meant as a metaphor, or as an actual character.
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